


A Shot Across the Bows

by RaccoonMama



Series: Artistic Integrity [BIOW] [2]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Intrigue, Lion's Arch, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Mystery, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonMama/pseuds/RaccoonMama
Summary: After a body is found in the harbor at Lion's Arch early one autumn morning, an asuran ranger takes it on herself to investigate, especially as more trouble starts cropping up... and all of it seemingly connected to a collection of mysterious basalt pins. There's a storm brewing over Lion's Arch, and this time, it's not coming from the sea...





	A Shot Across the Bows

**Author's Note:**

> Most listed OCs are mine with the exception of those I'll list per chapter.
> 
> Eshara Ulfvhit (norn elementalist), who dates my revenant Deshauna, played in game by my friend Jenn. Thank you for letting me puppet her for this story. <3
> 
> For art and pictures of these characters, you can check me out on Tumblr: http://rataprimus.tumblr.com

There was a distinct salty tang in the air as Pheazza woke, one she knew all too well. She knew the way of the sea more than stone, and from the tang to the faint red glow visible through the slats of her window, the signs all pointed to ill weather blowing in from the water.

Of course, she was no stranger to storms. Lion’s Arch had weathered its fair share, and other than the years she spent back in Rata Sum in college - during many of which she would sneak to the docks to speak with sailors she knew for news from home - the weathered brick and board of what was quite possibly the most diverse city in all of Tyria were as known to her as her daughter’s face.

It had changed in recent years, of course. Though the room she slept in was the same one she’d grown up in, the city around them had been vastly altered. Gone were the iconic scuttled ships, repurposed into shops and houses and storage space. It was gleaming white limestone, shining marble, spires of metal, and brilliant treated glass. It was a city much more prepared for an assault than it had ever been, even if sometimes the streets felt foreign.

The city outside was starting to come awake with her as dawn crept over the horizon. She could hear the industry of people strapping in for the storm to come, the mutterings of old men who could “feel in their bones” it was a bad one a’brewing. Stretching, the asura stood from her cot, shaking out her short red hair before padding over to the washbasin. She’d have to get out to the markets early. With everyone battening down, there would be a rush as more locals woke to the world.

Quietly, she cast a glance at another cot nearby. Kinna, as usual, seemed dead to the world, the blanket rising and falling as she slept, pale eartips just poking out the top. The progeny was bright, but much to her father’s dismay, she’d taken far more after her sea loving mother, preferring to stay with her in Lion’s Arch whenever she had the opportunity to do so. Pheazza couldn’t resist a smile. Little as she was, Kinna had already faced a lot in her young life, but she’d come through it like a champ.

It wouldn’t hurt her to sleep in a bit. With a storm rolling in, everyone would be hunkering down to weather it out.

Grabbing a cloth, Pheazza turned back to the mirror to start cleaning up. She wasn’t really anything more than average in appearance, or so she always felt. Middling in height, she was broad of shoulder with a thick trunk, body toned and perhaps more muscular than some might expect of a ranger, largely due to a childhood spent clamboring through rigging and helping on the docks. Her eyes were like her mother’s: vibrant blue, intense. She also shared her mother’s wild red mane, though her coloring and markings were similar to her father’s.

Perhaps it was the intensity that had intimidated Dhass so much.

Pulling on an overshirt and her jacket, she nudged an inky black stalker lying nearby with her foot, clicking her tongue. The beast yawned, giving a lazy stretch as it stood to walk at her side. In the corner, Kinna yawned, rolling over to snuggle more deeply into her blankets as Pheazza smiled, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Down in the main area of the shop, Pheazza’s parents and brothers were already getting ready for their day. Dlixx and Aeoxx were stocking shelves, though from behind it was harder to tell which twin was which. Her father was sweeping the step, but her mother - still and anxious - was standing at one of the windows, gazing quietly toward the sea.

“Bad one brewing?” Pheazza asked, stepping up beside Kusa. “Air smells saltier this morning.”

“We had a red dawn, and I heard someone saying the ocean’s acting antsy. Don’t think we’re getting a hurricane, but we may want to hunker down if the wind starts howling.”

Kusa had not grown into her land legs at all in the three decades since she’d stopped sailing to marry Rhonn and open their shop. She had been raised in Lion’s Arch too, finding work aboard a ship at the very first opportunity she could, and though she loved her family dearly, her husband and all her children and grandchildren knew her first love would always be the sea.

Smiling a little, Pheazza leaned forward to look out. “...mmh, you’re right, I think. I think I’ll wander down to the harbor markets to pick up some things, see how the ocean looks up close. Kinna’s still in bed… if she gets up before I’m back, could you let her know where I am?”

The older asura sniffed, but she smiled all the same. “Of course I will. She can go down and have breakfast with Piffi, Xattz, and the kids.”

“I think she’d like that. Anyway, I shouldn’t be long. I just want to pick up a things before the storm rolls in.”

Over where he was still sweeping, Rhonn turned his head. “Could you pick up some thundershrimp if old Rue has them, Phee? He may be short today, but if he’s got some, I can make a nice stew for tonight. Good food for a storm, right?”

“You should sell that stew recipe, Dad,” one of the twins was saying, and as he turned to face them with a cheeky half grin, Pheazza was able to identify Aeoxx. “You’d be rich in a week, Mom could buy a new ship, and you two could sail into blissful retirement.”

Dlixx snorted. “What, and leave the shop in our hands? Mom would sooner drop herself into the deep and be done with it…”

Pheazza rolled her eyes, grinning as the twins bickered. “I’ll be back within an hour or two. Try not to tear the place down, okay?”

And with that, she slipped off to head down to the docks.

* * *

Out in the harbor, it was clear everyone was buckling in for the brewing storm. Seaweed clung to areas where larger than normal swells had smashed into the walls during high tide, and shiphands of all walks were rushing across slick docks to help secure ships, barrels, and crates. The fishmongers were all watching anxiously from their stalls, all of which were clearly being prepped as well, though one - a ragged old human - waved at Pheazza as he saw her approaching down the thick marble steps.

“Morning, Phee! Can’t really call it a good one. Look how high those swells were last night...”

Pheazza nodded as she walked over, raising her hand in greeting. “Morning, Rue. Yeah, I see that. Mom was watching the sky before I headed down here- you know how she is. I’m convinced her heart’s still pumping seawater.”

The old man gave a dry, crackling laugh. “Ah, she’s a sailor to the core of her. There were more than a few people who were surprised when she stepped down as captain for Rhonn, but then, they’re a good match. And she got three fine children out of the deal, so I don’t think a soul can blame her.”

She couldn’t resist a grin, folding her arms across her waist. “I don’t know that you could call Aeoxx and Dlixx “fine,” but I get your meaning. Got any fresh thundershrimp this morning?”

“I do. Not much, but you only need a couple?”

“Just two will feed my whole family for a week.”

He nodded, starting to wrap up the requested critters. Pheazza turned as she waited, casting a look around the docks, but her quiet observation was interrupted by shouting down on the pier. A couple of longshoremen had fetched some netting, and they were casting it out to pull something in. Pheazza’s brow furrowed. Placing the coin for the shrimp on the counter, she moved to trot in that direction. “I’ll be right back to grab those, Rue!”

Without waiting for a response, she made her way to the two young men trying to fish out the obscured shape from the harbor. A few minutes and her help later, they’d managed to bring the load ashore.

It was a body.

An asura body, in fact. They’d probably been in the drink since last night, tossed in when the tide was high with the hopes that when it pulled back to sea that morning, it would take the evidence with it. With as hard as the swells had been in the coming storm, she wagered the unlucky sap had gotten snagged on something, remaining in the harbor instead. She didn’t know the man well, but she recognized the face as one of the high end mercantile dealers near the commodore’s quarters at the north end of the city. A man named Harz.

“Poor bastard was strangled!” one of the longshoremen, a charr, was saying, her deep green eyes sweeping over the deceased. “Got a cord around his neck, good and tight.”

That stirred up a buzz of conversation, people immediately calling for someone to fetch the Lionguard.

It wasn’t as if murder was uncommon in Lion’s Arch. It was a fact of life in most cities… no matter how hard the local guard tried, it was impossible to completely keep crime down. Frowning, she knelt, giving the body another look over. In some ways, it was fortunate. Harz had no family and no partner in his business, so there would be no grieving relation or friends to inform. Still, any loss of life was a pity.

Her eyes lingered on his lapel for a moment or two, noting an elaborate pin there. She’d never seen its like before, a large piece inlaid with pearls and opals, in a pattern that reminded her of very intricate golemancy work. But Harz hadn’t been a golemancer, had he…?

“Step aside! Lionguard, step aside. Step back, folks. Step away from the body.”

Frowning, Pheazza stepped back with the rest of the gathered crowd, remaining near the front as a few of the Lionguard, dressed in their shining armor, knelt to examine the remains.

They spoke quietly to one another - one norn, one human, and one asura - and one of them pointed out the pin on his lapel. After some conversation, one of them made an uneasy noise, and the asura cleared his throat and stood.

“Nothing to see here, everyone. Just another sorry accident-”

“Accident,” blustered the charr from before. “He’s a cord around his neck!”

“Which he likely blundered into drunk in the dark. The cord hung him, and the heavy swells last night broke the cord and carried him into the harbor.” He flicked his hand dismissively. “Move along.”

Though there were noises of disagreement in the gathering, no one seemed to want to argue with the Lionguard. But Pheazza frowned, lingering a moment longer. Her eyes focused again on that ornate lapel pin, committing its design to memory, before the norn covered the body so he could be taken away and burned, as was custom.

Quietly, Pheazza made her way back up to Rue’s shop, and he was frowning softly as he handed her the massive wrapped thundershrimp. “I threw in some legs from those big marsh mosquitos for your little girl. Know she likes ‘em. What was that I was hearing about a body? They found someone dead in the harbor?”

“Yeah. Old Harz, from uptown. They said it was an accident.”

Rue shook his head, sighing a bit. “Ah, them rich folk. Don’t understand how dangerous the sea can truly be.”

Pheazza pulled her ears back, but she schooled her expression before Rue looked back to her, smiling. “Yeah… guess that’s how it goes, huh? Well, thanks for the thundershrimp, Rue. You get home to Molly before this weather turns nasty.”

He gave a friendly grin and a small wave, laughing. “You know I will. There’ll be worse weather at home for me if I don’t!”

* * *

It wasn’t an hour after Pheazza made it back to the shop that the storm finally blew in. It was every bit as rough as Kusa had predicted, and the wicked howling of the wind over the crashing of waves against the seawall lent an eerie melody to the steadily beating rain.

Usually, Pheazza found this sort of weather soothing. Having grown up with the sea just a breath away, these early autumn squalls were a way of life. People learned to adjust, to listen to the sea, and listen to those who had made their living on it. If they told you a hurricane was brewing up, you’d best be prepared for a rough ride.

As it was, they’d closed up the shop for the remainder of the day, and Pheazza had settled herself into the living area in the back, watching Kinna play with her younger cousins. Her mind remained stuck on the pin she’d seen, and how quickly the Lionguard had brushed off the death as an accident when they’d seen it.

She was trying to push the incident out of her mind when Dlixx plopped down in the chair beside her, heaving a sigh. “You look like someone stole the last lightning bug, Pheephee. Still thinking about this morning at the harbor?”

“...yeah. I don’t know, it just… I don’t think it was an accident.”

“Thinking foul play?” He didn’t wait for her to respond, nodding slowly. “What makes you think that?”

Pheazza considered her younger brother for a moment, wondering if she should even say it. How crazy did she sound, trying to insist some conspiracy based only on what could’ve been a normal fancy piece of jewelry? “He was… there was a pin, on his lapel. It was big, looked like it was made of basalt? Inlaid with pearls and opals. The patterns were so specific… I remember Izza’s little sister using similar patterns when she built golems.”

Dlixx flicked his ears forward, making a thoughtful sound in his throat. “Yeah, I’ve seen pins like those around town. A few members of the captains’ council have them, and a lot of rich folk uptown. Maybe it’s just some… I dunno, some super extra hyper elite fancy pants club.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just not convinced.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead briefly with her thumb. “I’ve got some contacts still in the Lionguard. Maybe I’ll ask around after the storm clears, see if they’ve got answers.”

At first, Dlixx didn’t reply. He looked toward Matti and Kinna where they were playing, and over where Maerr looked ready to go charging right in, ensuring a tiny brawl amongst the cousins that they would inevitably need to break up. Then he looked back to his sister, voice lowering so the progeny couldn’t hear. “Are you sure about this, Pheazza? Look, I’m all here for a good mystery and all. I’ve got more books on the topic than old Rue’s got joint pills. But this is the real deal. What if it’s dangerous? I mean, say you’re right. That means whoever’s handing out shiny basalt buttons is killing people that probably charged a copper too much for an orichalcum paperweight. This could put you on that list.”

He wasn’t wrong. Meddling in these kinds of affairs was tricky at best, downright foolhardy at worst. She could be staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, and while Kinna could always go to live with her father in Rata Sum if things went south, she didn’t want to take herself out of her daughter’s life like that. Quietly, she folded her hands, finally letting out a long sigh. “I know. But this just doesn’t feel right. I didn’t know Harz, but I want to know what happened. Maybe I’m just paranoid and it’ll turn out to be nothing.”

“And maybe someone’ll put you in the harbor.” Dlixx sighed, though, furrowing his brow. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? You’re my favorite sister.”

Pheazza snorted, cuffing him gently on the shoulder. “I’m your only sister, dummy. But I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Though she wasn’t quite sure what “careful” meant here. She had no idea what she could potentially be walking into. Her concentration was broken, however, when little Maerr charged right into where Matti and Kinna had been playing, and just as expected, a little squabble broke out. She had more important things to worry about right now.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall when the storm finally wound down, leaving in its wake a beautiful rosy sunset and many sailors breathing sighs of relief. Already nets were being prepared as locals took stock of the damage done as the storm had raged on. Pheazza’s father had been outside repairing some damage to the shop sign when she left, and he just smiled and nodded, asking if she was going out to one of the taverns with her friends.

Her answer was that she wanted to wander, take in the damage herself. The smell of the city after a good strong storm had always been among her favorite things, after all. He accepted that, wishing her a goodbye after making sure she had her key if she got in after they locked up.

It didn’t take long for her wanderings to take her over to the massive crafthall, the sounds of industry drowning out most everything around it. Near the entrance stood a stocky charr Lionguard, his armor custom fit to make certain he could wear it. When he spotted the asura ranger approaching him, however, a broad grin split his muzzle. “Well, if it isn’t Pheazza! Come to see Caessenia? Afraid she’s not at the leatherworking stall today. Arthritis in her hands.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Woman worked till that wife of hers made her go home.”

“That certainly sounds like Caessenia,” Pheazza murmured, allowing herself a slight smile. “But my old mentor’s not why I’m here today, unfortunately. Did you hear about what happened to Harz down at the docks?”

Slowly, his ears lifted, smile fading as he gave Pheazza a long, careful look. “Hn. Yeah, Whaub did mention seeing you down at the docks. Damn pity. Never could afford a single thing he carried, but he had some nice things in that shop of his. Shame he wasn’t more careful down there. Docks are slippery at night.”

“I don’t think it was an accident, Crixus. There’s no way it was an accident.”

“Now, Pheazza, I know the soldiers that went to the docks. I’m sure they didn’t miss anything-”

“They only said it was an accident after they noticed a pin made of basalt on his lapel. It was inlaid with pearls. And they seemed really troubled by it.”

That was when Crixus finally seemed to drop any pretense. He looked at her for a long moment, then huffed softly, crouching down to her level. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“Caessenia was my mentor. She taught me to keep my eyes open. Tell me the truth, Crixus- you’ve known me long enough to know I can be trusted.”

He frowned, silver eyes flashing as he glanced around them to ensure no one was listening. Then, he lowered his voice slightly, leaning forward. “You heard of Makko?”

Pheazza blinked, nose crinkling up slightly. “That sounds like an asuran name… but I can’t say it rings a bell.”

“Well… honestly, that surprises me more than it probably should. I’ve never met her, but plenty of folks talk about her. She’s an asura, you’re right, and a black market dealer with a lot of connections and a lot of power. Pretty much runs the undercity. Folks she trusts to buy from her get a basalt pin, set with pearls and opals. Most of us are expected to stay mum on the subject, but… well, you know me. Don’t like it. She’s a crook, plain and simple. Sounds to me like Harz may’ve run afoul of her. They say Makko’s cutthroat with competition… and with people that try to cross her.”

That certainly made more sense than a fall and some convenient rigging, as far as Pheazza was concerned. Her ears tilted forward slightly as she listened, folding her arms across her chest. She wasn’t a woman who feared much, but digging too deep into this could put her family at risk.

Quietly, she pursed her lips, gazing down at the pavement for several moments. “Is she often prone to dropping bodies in the harbor?”

Crixus gave a faint shrug. “That I don’t know, I’m afraid. First I’ve heard of it, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. With the tides, especially a strong one like we had before that storm, evidence’d get washed away pretty quickly. But Vigdis was saying it looked to her like he’d gotten caught in some loose netting that kept him from being dragged out with the tide, and that much I know is honest. Though… you ask me, it seems awful convenient that he’d just get caught on stray netting.” He waved one hand absently after that. “Any rate, it’s probably safest not to go looking into it. You’ve got a little one at home to think about, missy.”

Pheazza frowned, glancing away for a moment. The sun was almost completely gone now, and a moonless night lit up the city as lanterns and magical crystals provided illumination on darkening streets. “...yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“Look, don’t worry too much about it, Pheazza. I’m sure the Lionguard’ll look into it discreetly. It’s just one of those things.”

“Yeah. One of those things. Hey thanks, Crixus… I’m gonna head home. You take care, okay?”

He smiled brightly, popping off a salute before turning back to his post.

But as Pheazza walked away, all she could feel in the pit of her stomach was a growing sense of dread. Whoever this Makko was, she was clearly powerful enough to keep even the Lionguard at bay while killing people she didn’t care for indiscriminately. And then what he’d said about it being suspicious that Harz had conveniently gotten caught on some rigging…  
It felt like someone was sending a warning.

Sighing, she smoothed back her hair. Maybe Crixus was right. Maybe this was a job for the Lionguard. She had her family and her daughter back at home, and she was no good to any of them if she got herself killed. Trying to push the thoughts out of her mind, she sighed, continuing on the long walk home.

* * *

In the week that followed, despite trying to keep thoughts of what had happened out of her head, Pheazza couldn’t help but keep her ears up, trying to catch any news at all of new developments in the murder on the docks. For the most part, everything was quiet, but the merchants on the row where her parents kept shop…

The first report came two days after Harz’s death. Old Connie, a widow woman who ran a candle shop two streets over from her family’s shop, had woken to someone throwing stones through her front windows. Cryptic messages were tied to them, indicating if she didn’t “pay up,” worse was to come. The Lionguard wrote it off as pranksters, but she didn’t miss that someone mentioned a pin like the one Harz wore being found at the scene.

Another shop, a little butchery owned by a pair of charr, was the next to be in the “prankster’s” sights… then another asura run shop only a street away from Pheazza’s family.

A few days after that, she heard the whispers of rumors of a well known dealer in Elonian artisan pieces being threatened. That got her attention, and at the first opportunity, she excused herself from the shop to make her way to the wealthy merchant district at the north end of town.

The area was totally different than she remembered the last few times she’d been up here. People were skittish, nervous. Anxious seamstresses and jewelers looked out from their windows as she passed, and she frowned as she approached the shop in question. The window was lined with beautiful pieces in traditional Elonian style, crafted by refugee artisans employed by the family who owned the shop. A beleaguered Lionguard stood talking to a woman nearby… a woman Pheazza knew well.

She was very tall, especially for a human, and best described as statuesque. Her features were clearly Elonian, with dark skin and piercing gold eyes. She kept her thick black hair done up in elaborate box braids decorated with tiny crystals. Her name was Deshauna Tahir, a woman who - like the rest of her family - was known for her vast efforts aiding refugees fleeing Elona.

Near her stood another woman, tall and thick in build. She was no human, but a norn, one often seen right at Deshauna’s side. Her light brown hair was straight and neatly kept, dressed in elaborate violet robes befitting an elementalist. Her skin was fair, and she stood at least a head and shoulders taller than most everyone in the crowd nearest her. Pheazza knew her as Eshara Ulfvhit. Today, unlike her usually jovial expression, she looked irritated, an expression to match how frustrated Deshauna looked, but her expression lightened somewhat when she spotted Pheazza approaching, lifting her hand in greeting. “Pheazza! It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“It has, Eshara. What brings you and Deshauna here? It’s rare I see her involving herself directly with the shops outside of Lion’s Arch.”

Sighing, Eshara jerked her head back toward the shop. “Deshauna’s father received a letter three or four days ago, in a package containing a brooch that was carved from basalt. Looked like a threat, directed at the shop here in Lion’s Arch. Since he can’t leave the shop in Divinity’s Reach, and Deshauna and I were in Hoelbrak with easy access to a gate anyway, we decided to come directly here and check it out. She’s been stressed about it since we got here last night.”

Pheazza’s ears flicked. That basalt pin again. “I don’t blame her. But… that sounds very familiar. A few days ago, one of the merchants here was murdered and his body left in the harbor. An asura named Harz. A basalt pin was on his lapel.”

“Someone mentioned it as we arrived, but they spotted the Lionguard and refused to talk more. I’ve seen the pins before, though. Deshauna told me that they wear them to show they have access to “special stock” at a particular store, but her family refuses to do business with the proprietor. Said they’re black market dealers.”

This could all be a coincidence. Pheazza knew this. Someone offing competition, or trying to scare the supplier in question. But every new piece she heard just raised her hackles that much more. This was all too suspicious. Frowning, she glanced over to Deshauna. “...did her father send her the pin?”

“He did. She wanted to show the Lionguard.”

“Then do you think your girlfriend would mind me borrowing you for a day or two? I have an idea I want to follow up on.”

Eshara gave her a very long look, seeming to measure up her much smaller friend. Then, she rocked back on her heels, grinning brilliantly. “Ah, an adventure! My friend, I’d like nothing better. Let me speak to Deshauna and we’ll be off.”

It didn’t take her long to finish the conversation. Deshauna planned to stay there and keep an eye on the shop, but she handed over the pin, and Pheazza frowned as she turned it over in her palm. It almost felt wrong to hold it. “This could be dangerous.”

“True. But isn’t that part of an adventure? Let’s find whoever’s causing this mess so we can all sleep easy!”

Pheazza couldn’t resist a smile, shaking her head. Well… it was now or never, wasn’t it? They had a crime lord to find.

* * *

It took some doing, but they were finally able to find a merchant not too scared to give up the location of the secretive shop. It was a trek up into the hills on the city’s western border, a space that had once been claimed by bandits, but now a series of checkpoints guarded by hired thugs deterred would-be intruders. The pin was their ticket in, and though suspicion was clearly aroused, they were not turned away, and eventually, the winding tunnel gave way into a room built into a cavern.

The room itself was massive, and it had likely served many purposes before falling into the hands of the organization that now set up shop here. Every wall was hung with tapestries and fine art, and a sweet smell hung in the air from a pipe infuser, dangling limply from the fingers of the asura seated across the room.

From Pheazza’s standpoint, the woman looked almost wolfish.

She was not unattractive, but her features were sharp, clearly dyed teal hair cut at jagged angles, long ears swept back. Only one eye could be seen, painted in a human style popular among shiphands, black eyeliner making her gleaming amber eyes stand out all the more. Her natural claws weren’t visible, hidden beneath orichalcum jewelry styled like tiger claws, jointed down her fingers.

Most striking, however, were her legs. It appeared she had lost them somehow, as they ended just above where the knee joint should have been, burn scars tracing up what was visible of her thighs. The remaining portion of her legs were ornately carved basalt, inlaid with pearls and power stones, glowing and hovering at the knee and ankle joint like the legs of the Peacemaker golems back in Rata Sum.

The same material, the same pattern of opals and pearls, that made up the large pin.

“Most people actually walk further into a luxury shop when they have a pass to enter,” she was saying, gaze focused on Pheazza’s face. “It’s rude to linger so far away like that. Come a little closer. I promise I don’t bite unless it’s fun.”

Pheazza felt her lip curl back slightly as the other woman said that, but she did move closer, Eshara never far behind. The woman’s gaze didn’t look any less predatory, but she at least seemed a little more comfortable now that the pair had moved closer.

“So. You must be the elusive Makko.”

The other asura grinned, taking a draw from the infuser she held before blowing delicate smoke rings into the air. “Congratulations, you’ve solved the mystery of this era. Yes, I’m Makko. Though I would have thought you’d know that.” She gestured with her free hand. “You are, after all, carrying one of my pins.”

Frowning, Pheazza looked down at the pin she’d kept clutched in her hand. She supposed the other woman had a point, but at the same time… she could have been literally anyone. “Fair point. Okay.” She let out a breath through her nose. “Then I guess you know why I’m here, too.”

“Afraid not. Sometimes I have an obvious answer for every time some pretty thing and her lovely bodyguard comes trotting into my little establishment, but considering I had no prior indication of your visit, I’m left wondering what could’ve drawn you to little old me.”

“I’m here because of Harz’s murder. And because of all the other shopkeeps you’ve been threatening.”

Makko’s brow arched at that, and she shook her hair back out of her face. Both eyes were visible now, though the right one had a deep scar cutting beneath it. “I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about. I did hear Harz had died- pity, he always paid a handsome fee for particular goods out of Metrica- but I don’t know why you think I had anything to do with that.”

Pheazza scowled. “That’s a lie and you know it. Pins, pins just like the one I’m holding, have been found at every scene. The Lionguard isn’t doing anything, but I’m the daughter of a merchant, and I protect my own. You’re apparently one of the biggest names in this city’s underbelly. Why are you shaking down legitimate business owners? Don’t you make enough money with your pirate goods?”

That got Makko’s attention. Sitting up from her languid recline, she narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the ranger for a long moment. It was a move that made Eshara step up protectively next to Pheazza, lightning crackling around her arms. “Let’s get one thing straight: as far as Harz goes, he was hardly “legitimate.” Where do you think he got those “very exclusive” golem parts? Those were Inquest first, you know. And beyond that… as if I would be stupid enough to shake down shops in the harbor district. They’re not even close to being my competition. The goods I trade in aren’t sold in your neat and tidy district shops. If my pins are showing up at crime scenes, it most certainly wasn’t because I had them left there. Do I look like an idiot?”

“You don’t look like an idiot, but you do look like a woman who should know when something strange is passing under her nose.” Eshara reached down, taking the pin from Pheazza before holding it out, making sure it was clearly visible for Makko. “This pin was sent to the family of someone very dear to me, with a threat. Do you know the Tahirs?”

“I know them, but they won’t do business with me. Very upstanding, that family.” From Makko’s tone, she didn’t mean that in any way that could be seen as friendly. “They, however, aren’t a threat to me, and I have no reason to threaten them. They cornered the market on Elonian goods long before I came to Lion’s Arch, and they’re actually, you know… Elonian.” From her posture, though, she seemed to have taken interest. She was sitting up, ears up and forward, looking intensely at the pin now in Eshara’s hand. “You said this was sent to the Tahirs, with a threat. This pin, exactly. Give it to me. I want to make sure it’s one of mine.”

Eshara hesitated, but it was Pheazza who nodded, and the norn stepped forward to lay the hefty brooch in Makko’s palm. She held it up, inspected it from every possible angle, weighed it in each hand. And then, abruptly, she pitched it hard at a nearby asura bodyguard, who squeaked and leapt out of the way of the sudden projectile. “And just when did you lot plan to tell me we had missing pins?!”

“No one reported any, ma’am!” the bodyguard immediately replied, trying to recover from his start. “Giik and Kith made sure the ones we’ve got on-hand were the only ones produced! They recount every night, like you said!”

Her lips curled back, sharp teeth bared. “Then have them recounted again. As many times as it takes. In the meantime…” She looked back to Eshara and Pheazza, trying to school her expression somewhat, despite her clear frustration. “You two are going to help me find out who’s responsible for this.”

Eshara immediately looked taken back, and her brow furrowed as she pointed a finger at the asura. “And just who do you think you are to give us orders?”

“Someone who has as much a stake in this as either of you. You said yourself that someone sent a threat to someone dear to you. And you, cutie.” She glanced toward Pheazza. “You said you’re a merchant’s daughter. So I’d say you have a very vested interest in finding out who’s threatening business owners around the city. You want to keep the people you love safe? Then you’re helping me find out who’s smearing my… “good” name”

Pheazza scowled at the prospect, but Makko had a point. They were facing an unknown threat, one the Lionguard was refusing to investigate due to the pins… and the longer things went on, the more likely it became that they would come after Makko anyway, strictly on the principle that the pins tied her to the crimes. “...you’re saying you really are innocent?”

The woman shrugged, returning to her reclining position. “I am. Whether or not you believe me is entirely up to you, but I have no reason whatsoever to go after the people who’ve been affected. So what’s it gonna be?”

Eshara frowned, glancing down at Pheazza for her answer. The ranger tensed, but finally, she huffed out a long sigh. “Fine. But if I find out that you’re lying to us, I’ll come after you with a fury like no other.”

In response, Makko flashed the first grin she’d worn since they arrived. “My dear, I’d expect nothing less.”


End file.
